


Facing the Past

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Underworld Fics [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Set in the Underworld–Regina and Robin pay a visit to Cora, looking for answers and a way out, but that’s not what Cora’s interested in talking about.





	Facing the Past

It’s eerie how similar everything is—the town and all its businesses, the houses and street names—it’s all so surreal and not at all what she expected of the Underworld. It’s not that she expected brimstone and fire, but she didn’t expect this. Nor did she expect that the most unsettling place she’d visit would be the mayor’s office—yet it is.

It’s her office, essentially—the same desk and the same black-and-white print curtains, but it lacks the personal touches that make it hers—the picture of her and Henry from his first day of school and the horse statue she paid entirely way too much for—and, it didn’t matter how prepared she was to see her mother spin around in her chair, the sight of her knocks their air from her lungs and sends a chill down her spine.

And she wishes there were another way, a way that didn’t involve her mother—a way to get them all safely home that didn’t rely on the one woman who couldn’t resist manipulate any and every situation to her benefit, who never did anything from the goodness of her heart—mostly because she doesn’t have one.

Regina tries to stay calm and collected and she tries to remember her purpose, to remember why she’s standing in this office—in  _her_  office—and she reminds herself to keep things quick and simple, to explain what she needs, to keep her emotions out of it and not to ask the questions that she’s wanted answers to for as long as she can remember. Because she knows that even here, even in this surreal realm of unfinished business, she doubts she’d get the answers she hoped for—not knowing was almost better. And she’s careful not to seem to vulnerable, not to show weakness, not to let her mother know how terrified she is—of his place and what it holds, of the possibility of what could happen to her here, of what her loved ones will see and what they’ll learn about her—because perhaps it’ll be too much for them and perhaps they’ll never look at her as they did before. And she doesn’t want to let on that she has a reason to want to go back—that she’s finally happy with her life and the people in it, that she has family and friends who love her because that would give her mother leverage, something to use against her, something by which to manipulate her. So she goes in with a plan—and has no faith that she’ll be able to stick to it.

Robin goes with her—emotional support, he’d reasoned. She couldn’t help but smile at his offer and though a tiny voice in the back of her head told her that it probably wasn’t a good idea, he insisted and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Since arriving in the Underworld, he’s been vigilant—constantly on-guard, constantly keeping a watchful eye on both her and Henry, wanting to protect them and keep them safe from whatever dangers might loom. And she’s grateful because though she hasn’t voiced her concern aloud, being here terrifies her.

Cora stares, smiling coyly at them as Regina speaks, watching her mother carefully, unable to tell if Cora’s even hearing her. She watches as Cora stands and rounds the desk, leaning against it as she looks past her. Following her mother’s gaze, she watches as Cora’s eyes trail up and down Robin, narrowing critically as she tilts her head as she sizes him up.

“Mother?” Regina says in an even voice. “Are you even listening?”

Slowly Cora looks back to Regina and smiles, “Of course I am.”

Regina takes a short breath, hating that she apparently needs to have this conversation in order to understand the way things work in this realm and to find a way back home. “ _And_?” She shifts impatiently as she follows her mother’s gaze to Robin, watching as she stares at him, practically looking through him as if looking into his soul.

“He’s not exactly fit for a Queen,” Cora says, as her eyes slowly slide to Regina. “But I have to admit, he is handsome…in a rugged sort of way.” A smile curls onto her lips—the sort of smile Regina’s seen time and time again, the sort of smile that’s there to mask her disappointment in the presence of company.  “Just your type.”

“My type?” Regina’s eyes roll. “Mother, can you please just…”

“He looks…familiar, somehow,” Cora says, cutting in.  

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Robin says dryly as he shifts closer to Regina, hovering near her as his arms cross defensively over his chest. Again, Regina finds herself glancing back at him, offering a small smile in appreciation for his support; but when she looks back, she sees that his sleeves have pushed up and his tattoo is visible. She grimaces, knowing her mother will recognize it—and if she’s in the mood, use it against them.

A thin, narrow smile spreads across Cora’s face and there’s a flicker of recognition in her eyes, “Oh…it  _can’t_  be.” She lets out a laugh and settles disapproving eyes on her daughter. “Oh, Regina. Really?” Her eyebrow arches and once more she looks to Robin. “So this is the infamous barkeep-turned-thief,” she pauses, her head tipping to the side. “I seem to remember he was also a  _married_  thief.

“Mother…”

“Please, Regina, don’t tell me that you’re  _shacking up_  with a  _married man_. It’s beneath you.”

Her shoulders tense at the admonishing tone—and suddenly she feels like a child who once again has done something disappointing.

“I am a widower,” Robin clarifies in an even voice. “And I am no longer a thief.”

“A widower,” Cora repeats slowly. “What did you, Regina? Kill his wife?”

Regina’s breath catches at the back of her throat and suddenly it’s difficult to breathe; every muscle in her body seems to tense and her heart pounds in her ear as she thinks of Marian. Suddenly the distant memory is at the forefront of her mind, like it was yesterday that Marian stood before her and she’d taunted her as she was arrested—taken away to never return. It doesn’t matter that the story changed, that Marian wasn’t executed the following day by one the Evil Queen’s Black Knights, but killed by Zelena instead because regardless of the details, it’s still her signature on the death warrant and she set it all into motion.

And Robin doesn’t know—at least she hasn’t told him.

“Oh, Regina, you  _didn’t_ ,” Cora says with a laugh behind her voice, as her eyebrow arches in surprise—though not in a way that’s disapproving.  

Regina keeps her jaw stiff and tries to remain stoic, trying not to let on that she’s rattled. She feels Robin’s hand press against her back and she tries not to flinch as she silently berates herself for thinking that this could work, that her mother would want to help. She was foolish to think it could be as simple asking for help, foolish for thinking there might not be strings attached, foolish to think that it wouldn’t backfire in some way.

“This was a mistake,” she says quietly, letting her eyes meet her mother’s for an all too brief moment before she turns out of the office.

She can hear Robin following behind her, nearly jogging to keep pace with her, and she’s vaguely aware of him calling out her, trying to get her to stop, trying to get her attention—and finally, he succeeds, hooking his arm through hers as he steps in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“What just happened?” He asks, his soft, empathetic eyes meeting hers. “Are you okay?”

She hesitates for a moment, her jaw tensing as she looks away. “You didn’t…react.”

“React? To what?”

“To…her.” She sighs, “To what she said.” Slowly, she looks back at him, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.“To what she said about Marian and…me.”

“Ah. That,” he says with a nod as his hand slides down her arm and his finger lace through hers. He tugs her forward, leading to the bench in the lobby of the municipal building. Together they sit and she looks down at their hands, settled on his leg. “I’ve…always known. But until today, I wasn’t sure that you did.” He pauses for a moment. “And Marian’s death was not your fault.”

“I had her arrested and I signed off on her execution.” He hesitates and she grimaces. “I…didn’t mean to keep it from you. I didn’t know until…”

“I don’t blame you for her death.” He sighs. “It was political. I know that—and I’ve always known that.” Shaking his head he gives her head a soft squeeze. “It’s a long story, but Marian and I knew the rules of the life we lived as outlaws. We knew the risks and we knew…the price we’d pay if caught. Without getting into the details, I made some poor choices—a robbery that went awry—and Snow White bailed me and the Merry Men out. I didn’t feel I owed her anything, but Marian disagree and…”

“And that’s when I found her.”

“Yes.” He sighs. “And it was a long time ago and we were different people then.”

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, as she looks up at him and feels warm tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m  _so sorry_ , Robin.”

He nods and slides closer to her, slipping his arm around her shoulders, “I know you are.”

He smiles gently when she rests her head on his shoulders, sucking in a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, turning her face into the crook of his neck—she doesn’t have to tell him how terrified she is to be here, in the Underworld, among so many of her victims. She doesn’t have to tell him that everywhere she looks she’s reminded of the person she hates more than anyone, the person she used to be—and she doesn’t have to tell him that she’ll never be able to apologize enough to make things right with or that since their arrival in the Underworld there’s been a pit in her stomach, wondering when he’ll have seen too much of it.

“That will  _never_  happen.”

Meekly, she nods and picks her head up off his shoulder. “I just…want to go home.”

“I know you do,” he says quietly. “And so do I—and we’ll figure out another way to get back there. We don’t need her help.” He smiles, leaning in and dropping a light kiss on her forehead. “But while we’re here, you don’t need to worry. I am never going to give up on you, on us. I know that you have a…complicated past, but…”

“Now there’s an understatement.”

“…but that past is a part of what makes you, well…you.” He grins, “And I happen to be quite fond of  _you_.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, now, that’s debatable,” Robin returns, his smile deepening. “We’re going to figure this out. We hit a road block, but if I know you, that’s not even going to slow you down.” She feels a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And I’ll be at your side—regardless of what happens or who we run into or what horrible memories are brought up—you and I are in this together and nothing will ever change that.”

Taking a breath, she stands, tugging him up beside her. She takes a short breath, slowly exhaling it as she musters a smile. “Let’s go—we have a new plan to figure out.” Smiling, he slips his arm over her shoulders and together, they walk out of the municipal building—and with him unwaveringly at her side, she feels like they just might succeed.


End file.
